


Wishes on a Broken Star

by Pennstram



Series: This world our own (SPN Advent Calendar 2020) [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Croatoan/Endverse (Supernatural), Angst, Bottom Castiel (Supernatural), Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Episode: s05e04 The End, M/M, Top Dean Winchester, bend-me-shape-me's SPN Advent Calendar 2020, despite the tags this doesn't actually contain alot of smut, implied Endverse Castiel/Dean Winchester, kinda bittersweet ending, referenced Past Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:33:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28280202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pennstram/pseuds/Pennstram
Summary: The smattering of dark freckles. The perfect curve of his lips. The wide fan of his lashes. But the face beside him was lined in a way the other wasn’t. Was haggard with knowing death and destruction. He wished he could change it. He wished they could go back.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Endverse Castiel/Endverse Dean Winchester
Series: This world our own (SPN Advent Calendar 2020) [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2041642
Comments: 1
Kudos: 29





	Wishes on a Broken Star

**Author's Note:**

> Angsty Endverse!Destiel heart to heart with a sprinkle of smut?   
> Set vaguely during the episode 'The End'   
> Day nine: Wishes

_”What happened to you, man?”_ What happened? Life had happened. Love had happened. Cas turned his head just slightly to study Dean’s profile. All day, it had been like looking through a funhouse mirror. They were the same, yet oh so different.

The smattering of dark freckles. The perfect curve of his lips. The wide fan of his lashes. But the face beside him was lined in a way the other wasn’t. Was haggard with knowing death and destruction. He wished he could change it. He wished they could go back. Back to the other Dean’s time. 

Reaching a hand over, Cas brushed his fingertips against that beautiful mouth. He wished he still had the power to take it all away. The power to fix this broken timeline. “You’re thinking of him.” Cas blinked and instantly came crashing back to reality as Dean’s lips curved into a sad frown under his touch. 

Looking away again Cas pulled his hand back. “I’m thinking of who we used to be.” Dean rolled onto his side to face him completely now at that. Cas wished he would have brushed it off. He wished Dean would have brushed him off. He didn’t though. He didn’t and God Cas wished he had, because maybe then he wouldn’t feel so damn guilty about wishing it were the other Dean pulling him closer. 

His stomach churned at the thought. The thought of gentler hands resting on his hips. The thought of happier eyes pulling him under. Of softer lips pushing against his own. “No,” it was breathed into his mouth and he clenched his eyes shut at the sound, “I know you, Cas, you’re thinking of him. I know you.” The hurt he wasn’t accustomed to anymore washed over him. Bathing him in Dean’s discontent. 

Cas expected him to pull away. To leave him cold and alone in their shared bed with only the memory of Dean left behind. The memory of another Dean. Of an unbroken Dean. But he didn’t. Instead he wrapped his arms around Cas and pulled him against his chest. “You’re thinking it’d be easier with him.” 

Wouldn’t it though? It’d been so much simpler back then. So much easier. Cas watched as Dean let his expression smooth out into sad acceptance. Bright green eyes hidden from view and mouth tipped down at the edges. It would’ve been so much easier, but it wouldn’t have been them. 

It wouldn’t be the same. They wouldn’t be the same. They needed to fall and break and piece each other back together again to get to where they are now. They needed to hate each other, to love each other. “I am.” 

A noncommittal sound. Fingernails biting into the skin at his hip. “I am.” Cas repeated with more conviction behind it as he rolled over to straddle Dean’s lap. He ran his hands down freckled and scarred skin. Fingertips pressing down on the broken antiposession tattoo, Dean watched him, expression deceivingly blank. He watched him smooth too human hands down his arms. Watched him press dirty nails against each raised scar. 

“Then why are you here?” Dean asked finally, as Cas finished his path down his arms to twine their fingers together. He used the new anchor point to yank Cas down against him, stretching their arms out to pull Cas’s up over their heads. Cas’s body pulled taunt over him. “Why not go to him then?” He questioned, voice low and rough in the dark. “I know you, and I know _him_. I know he’s dying to get you under him.” 

“And are you?” Cas countered pointedly as he trailed his lips lightly over the stubble on Dean’s jaw. Tracing the contours of his face as he came to rest at his ear. “Dying to get me underneath you? You’re one in the same, Dean. You forget,” a small nip at his earlobe, “I—“ he trailed back over Dean’s cheekbone to press a kiss to the bridge of his nose, “know—“ he slid down to hover over slightly parted lips, “you.” 

Dean narrowed his eyes and scowled when Cas pulled back instead of going in for a kiss. He tightened his grip on Cas’s hands and bit out, “Then you know I don’t have time or energy for these petty games, _Castiel_.” The way he said it made a shiver race down Cas’s spine. It was enough for his eyes to fall shut and a sigh to escape. 

Letting go of one hand, Dean wrapped his arm around Cas’s waist. Using that he flipped them to press Cas back into the mattress. The next moment Dean had both of his arms above his head again. His wrists pinned together in one hand. “You didn’t answer me though. Why would you be here, if you wanted him? When you damn well know he wants to fuck you too?” 

It was a loaded question. A question they both knew the answer too, but were daring the other to say it. Daring the other to break first. Cas looked up at him through half lidded eyes, his face flushed and breathing heavy. “Because, he _doesn’t_ want me.” He breathed out, letting his legs fall open for Dean to settle more comfortably against him. 

There was no surprise or confusion in Dean’s steady gaze. Only a heated contemplation as he moved the hand not surrounding Cas’s to brush along his collarbone. “No?” A slight shift had Cas wrapping his legs around Dean’s waist, pushing them together thoughtlessly. That wasn’t what this was about. 

“He wants the Angel I once was. He wants the Castiel waiting for him in the past. He wants the Castiel who doesn’t know what _he_ wants.” Dean hmm’d as he latched onto the soft skin right under Cas’s ear and sucked. “He wants the fight. He wants the power rush of having a creature older than life itself submit to him.” Seemingly to make a point Cas tipped his head to the side more to give Dean access to the rest of his throat. 

With one last bite to the dark mark, Dean pulled back just enough so he could speak, his lips still brushing against burning skin. “So I’m the consolation prize?” It wasn’t bitter, or angry or irritated, but matter of fact. Like he knew some great secret Cas hasn’t told yet. 

“No.” Because it was never about Dean. It was never about what he wanted. “I am.” He wasn’t the powered up Angel he once was. He wasn’t that spectacular being he knew past Dean wanted. He wasn’t going to put up a fight. “I’m here, Dean,” he licked his lip slightly, knowing the green eyes were tracking the movement, “because you don’t want me to fight you. Because you want unwavering devotion and loyalty. Because we’ve done this dance before.” 

He wished at one point in time, that he could go back. Back before the apocalypse. Back before Sam said yes, before Dean refused Michael. He had wished— and then past Dean showed up. And he wished the past had never been altered. Because Cas knew, he’d wish for this Dean. In every world and every way. He’d wish for the Dean pressing into him with a reverence born out of desperation. He’d wish for the Dean he didn’t have to fight against to be taken care of, to be loved. 

A soft groan slipped out and he jerked up as Dean rolled his hips forward against him. His eyes were dark and hungry and Cas wanted desperately to be devoured. “I’m here, because I’m fucked up enough to have submitted to you long before you wanted me to fight back.”

“You’re here, because he doesn’t know how to take care of you yet.”


End file.
